Chapters:

I forced myself to stop crying. Since when had I
become such a baby? I never used to cry, especially in front of
people. Something about giving away my emotions made me feel so
weak. I rubbed my hands across my cheeks, wiping away the
evidence. I told myself I shouldn't care, and that he was
probably lying to me anyways just to get back at me. Why did I
let it work? I glared at him as I thought about how much of a
jerk he was.

He avoided my look by standing up and dumping the
whole plate in the trashcan. He rinsed his coffee cup out in the
sink and then grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge. "Lets
go," he said as he walked towards the back door, stopping briefly
to grab his precious newspaper off the chair. I thought about
gluing myself to the chair and refusing to go with him, but the
probability of being left alone in the house yet again changed my
mind instantaneously.

"What are we doing?" I asked as I followed him out
the back door and in the direction of the shop. I wasn't really
sure I cared though, I was just glad to be outside for the first
time in weeks. The air seemed so crisp and fresh today, even
though the sky was covered in deep grey clouds. Looking out the
window, I would have expected it to be unreasonably cold, but
instead it was warmer than I had ever remembered it being before.

"A tree fell on the fence the other day. So now we
get to fix it," he answered, interrupting my thoughts.

It took a second for me to process his words. Fence?
"What fence?" I asked.

"The one that goes around the property."

I recalled the time I ran out to the lake and
scrunched my face up. "There's no fence," I argued, somewhat
confused.

"There is in the front. I couldn't have strangers
just waltzing up to the front door whenever they felt like it now
could I?"

"I wouldn't mind," I admitted, giving him a small
chuckle. His words didn't sink in at first, but after a minute I
realized what they meant. If he needed a fence to keep people
out, then that meant there were people around here, and
maybe I wasn't as completely hopeless and isolated as he'd led me
to believe. Thinking back, I wondered what might have happened
had I ran towards the front of the house instead of the back.
Would I have found someone? Would I have been rescued? The
thought both relieved and terrified me.

When we made it to the big pull up door on the right
of the shop he turned and told me to sit down and face the house.

"Why?" I asked, irritated.

"Because I told you to."

"Why can't I see inside?" I demanded. "Do you have
some big secret hidden in there?"

He ignored my questions and forced me to turn around.
"Sit," he ordered as he pushed on my shoulders, urging me down.

I groaned as I plopped down on the hard gravel.

I heard the loud rumble of the door rising as he
pulled it up behind me. "Don't move," he warned, "I'm keeping my
eye on you."

"Yeah, yeah…" I mumbled under my breath as I gazed
out over the property. Everything was so green and vibrant, even
in the middle of summer. With all the rain we'd been getting
though I was beginning to understand why.

I turned and stole a glance in the shop when I heard
the sound of an engine start. There was a big shelf taking up the
entire back wall, which was cluttered with tools and boxes and
cans and plastic containers and other things. My attention turned
immediately to the vehicle he was now backing out. As it passed
by me I saw that it was a large four-wheeler with some kind of
cart hitched to the back of it.

I stood up again as he got off of it and came over to
close the door again, shooting me a suspicious glance as he did.
I walked over to the four-wheeler and inspected it. As I listened
to the sound of the motor, I realized he didn't really have a
motorcycle after all, and that this is what he used to chase me
down that one day. It already seemed like a lifetime ago.
Suddenly I wondered how many other things around here were not
exactly as they seemed.

"Ever ridden one of these before?" he asked, suddenly
next to me.

"Apparently I have."

He smiled. "Well, I promise it's more fun when you're
conscious. Maybe later we can unhitch it and take it for a real
spin." He climbed on and gestured for me to get on behind him. I
hesitated a second before slowly complying, trying carefully not
to touch him as I climbed on, which probably looked pretty
awkward. It didn't matter though, there was no one watching. He
drove us over to a part of the yard in front of the house that
I'd never been to before and parked only a little ways into the
forest.

"We'll have to walk a bit, it's too thick to drive
anymore," he said, and he was right. There was no pathway in this
area and the brush and trees grew too thick almost immediately
upon entering. I climbed off and watched as he walked to the back
of the cart and opened a bag he'd apparently put in there while I
wasn't looking. He pulled out some goggles and gloves, and then
put earmuffs around his neck. I was horror struck when the next
thing he hoisted up was a giant chainsaw.

I told myself the idea of him murdering me out in the forest with
a chainsaw was ridiculous, but my heart pounded ruthlessly
nonetheless. Every horror movie I'd ever watched before started
to play through my mind until he turned around and saw the
tell-all look on my face. I half expected an evil grin to twist
across his face, but instead he just looked away, seeming more
annoyed than anything else.

He let the heavy saw swing down by his side and
started walking towards me. I backed away a little, getting my
hair caught in a low branch just as he brushed past me. "Come
on," he called back flatly. I carefully untangled myself with
quivering hands and tailed after him, feeling stupid for reacting
that way but still keeping some distance between us just in case.
We didn't walk far before I saw the enormous tree collapsed on
its side with its roots sticking violently up out of the ground.

The chainsaw definitely made sense now. The wood was
thick enough that we would definitely need it. I exhaled with
relief knowing he really wasn't planning on killing me, yet. Sam
walked over and began to examine it closely, apparently deciding
how he was going to go about this enormous project. About half
way up the trunk I could see the fence he was talking about. It
too was enormously tall, or at least it was, and the top
was conveniently looped with razor sharp barbed wire. Sadly, I
realized I never would have had a chance at climbing over it.

"Okay," Sam said, still eyeing the log, "I'm going to
start at the roots over here and work my way toward the fence.
Just stay back for now, okay? When I get far enough you can start
carrying the wood back to the trailer. Sound okay?" He looked at
me for approval.

I gladly took a few steps back and nodded. He put the
muffs up over his ears and revved the saw to life. Even standing
as far back as I was, it was still uncomfortably loud, and after
a while I found myself holding my hands over my ears. While Sam
was busy focusing his attention on the tree, the thought occurred
to me that I might try to escape where the fence was knocked
down. I thought about it for a good ten minutes before finally
getting the nerve to start inching my way around.

When I was about a third of the way there, the
chainsaw shut off and my heart literally stopped along with it. I
was a ways behind Sam but could still see him as he set the saw
down and wiped the sweat off his brow with his forearm. I
crouched down behind a tree and waited, unsure of my next move.
If I tried to make my way back to where I was standing before, he
would see me and know I'd been up to something. If I tried to
make it through the fence he would certainly hear me and catch me
in no time.

A third option would be to quietly sneak further into
the forest and hope that eventually I'd find a way out, but I had
no idea how far the fence stretched and no guarantee Sam wouldn't
catch up sooner or later. None of my options sounded very good,
so I simply didn't move. I hung my head and wondered why I had
put myself in this situation to begin with. Why didn't I just
wait until escape was certain? Hadn't I decided I was going to
gain his trust first? Ugh, what was I thinking? Stupid,
stupid, stupid… In the middle of scolding myself I heard
Sam's voice ring out through the trees.

"Emma?" He sounded hopeful, like maybe he just wasn't
seeing me but that I was still there, and not trying to run off.
Part of me wanted to answer him, but I couldn't. I could hear him
moving around as sticks and leaves crunched under his boots.
"Emma." I heard him say again, this time more to himself. He
sounded tired rather than angry, giving me enough courage to peer
around the tree again.

He pulled his gloves and goggles off and tossed them
down by the saw. Then he sat down on one of the larger pieces of
wood he hadn't downsized yet and rested his head in his hands.
"Emma, if you can hear me, please… listen."

He had my full attention. At that moment, I couldn't
have run away even if my life depended on it. I wanted,
needed, to hear him; to know what he had to say. My ears
strained to pick up his words, closing out all other sounds so
that all I could hear was his voice.

"I'm begging you not to run away from me again. Not
for my sake Emma, but for yours. It's dangerous out here, and you
don't even know where you are. So please be smart about this, and
understand that you have a lot of things to be afraid of, but I'm
not one of them, okay? I promise I'm not mad. In fact, I
understand. I know better than anyone what it's like to want to
run away, and I wish more than anything you didn't have to feel
that way. I'm so sorry that you do, but please don't run.
Please…"

There was a long pause after that last word, and I
couldn't have felt more conflicted. Did he really mean it that he
wasn't mad? Or was he just tricking me? I turned and glanced out
at the thick forest, thinking this just might be my last chance.
It didn't really matter to me that he was sympathetic to my
feelings. It didn't change anything. I was still a prisoner, and
he was still my captor. But, he was also right. I had no clue
where I was, and not only that, I simply didn't feel like running
through the brush again. It was painful enough the first time and
he would likely catch up to me again anyways.

In the middle of deciding what to do I heard him get
up and take a few steps in my direction. Did he see me?
I wondered. Part of me hoped that he had and that my decision was
made for me, but then the footsteps stopped and moved away in
another direction. When I didn't hear him anymore I peered around
again, but he was nowhere to be seen. The only sounds I could
hear were the sounds of nature.

I sat there thinking for a few minutes until I heard a rustling
deeper in the woods. At first I thought it was Sam coming for me
after all, but it was coming from the wrong direction. There was
a moment of silence where all I could hear was the sound of my
heart beating as the hairs on the back of my neck pricked up in
eerie anticipation. When I heard it again it was closer, and
moving. I quickly stumbled to my feet and watched for whatever it
was. Suddenly Sam's words rang through my head: It's
dangerous out here. You'll die.

I heard a strange sound in the brush near me and that
was enough to send me running. I didn't know if it was just my
paranoid imagination or if a creature really was after me, but I
wasn't about to find out. I seemed to run for only a few seconds
before slamming into something hard and falling backwards
painfully. I glanced up in confusion to see Sam standing there,
looking equally confused.

"Emma?"

"There's something after me!" I shrieked in
full-blown panic.

He pulled me up quickly and held me close before
scanning the forest behind me for whatever it was I was talking
about. A few seconds later I felt his body soften slightly.
"Emma, there's nothing after you."

I turned around and looked again, just to make sure.
There seemed to be nothing but birds chirping and maybe a
squirrel or two climbing across some branches overhead, but no
monster. I slumped back around to face him, feeling embarrassed
yet again. "I don't like it out here," I whined childishly.

He smiled. "Don't worry, as long as you don't go
running off," he emphasized the words before continuing,
"you'll be fine."

I looked up at him with big wide eyes. "So you're
really not mad?"

He shook his head. "You came back and you're safe,
that's all that matters."

They way he looked at me made me blush a little. I
dropped my gaze and realized he was still holding my arms. He
seemed to realize it too and let go abruptly even though I made
no effort to pull away.

"Come on, let's start loading this wood so we can get
out of here."

We both took a few trips carrying pieces of wood to
the cart until eventually it was just me while he resumed his
duties with the chainsaw. It didn't take long for me to become
completely exhausted. I couldn't even remember the last time I
did real physical work. And besides that, the wood had seemed to
rough up my hands pretty good, causing some cuts and scrapes on
my palms and a few splinters in my fingers. I didn't complain
though, just kept going until Sam felt we'd made enough progress
for the day. He turned the saw off for the last time and started
carrying wood back along with me.

"Emma why don't you take a break?" he said after
noticing how slow I was moving. "I can get the rest, just wait
here for me."

I almost objected for the sake of seeming tough, but
my hands and back were hurting just enough for me to oblige. I
sat on the four-wheeler and started picking the splinters out of
my hands while Sam finished up the job. The cart was practically
overflowing with wood by the time he finished loading what all
remained.

"What do we need all this wood for anyways?" I asked
when he got back on and started the engine.

"Well we don't really need it," he admitted,
"but sometimes it's nice to have a campfire, and why waste the
wood?"

He drove us back across the front yard to an area not
far from the gazebo he'd built and stopped next to a fire ring
he'd apparently made recently. I watched as he began stacking the
wood we'd just collected into a pile on the grass nearby. I
groaned at the thought of picking up another piece of wood.

"What's wrong, tired already?" he joked. "We still
have at least two more days of this before we can start fixing
the fence."

"My hands hurt." I complained even though I told
myself I wouldn't.

He frowned and came over to me, gently taking my
hands up in order to examine the damage. "Oh Emma, why didn't you
tell me this was happening?"

I shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

He shook his head and held my hands together in his,
engulfing them. "I'm so sorry, I should've paid more attention.
You can use my gloves from now on."

I couldn't help but feel good about the attention he
was giving me. "But what about you?" I asked, looking up at him.

He smiled. "You don't have to worry about me Emma. I'll make do,
always have."

We stood there for a moment just waiting for the
other to speak until the silence became awkward.

"Um, do you want to start a fire?" he asked suddenly,
dropping my hands and digging a box of matches out of his pack.

I almost laughed. "But it's the middle of the
afternoon still."

"Well it'll be nice and hot for tonight then wont it?
Perfect for roasting marshmallows." He gave me a big grin and
handed the matches to me.

"Alright then." I walked over to the cart and picked
out the smallest pieces of wood I could find before setting them
up against each other in the fire ring, tee-pee style. After
about five tries and six matches later, I decided cold wood
wasn't exactly the best thing to start a fire with.

"Maybe some newspaper might help?" Sam suggested from
behind me after seeing the trouble I was having.

My throat went dry at the thought of burning the
paper I'd been so desperate to read earlier. I looked over my
shoulder at him, expecting him to be joking, but he clearly
wasn't. Held out in front of him was the rolled up paper.

"Is that the same one from this morning?" I asked
coolly, no longer believing it had anything to do with me.

"It sure is."

I turned away again and roughly slid another match
against the box. Fire engulfed the tip and I once again held it
under the wood until it nearly burned my finger. I dropped it
abruptly and watched as the tiny flame disappeared into a useless
swirl of smoke.

"What's the matter?" Sam asked. "No longer
interested?"

I shook my head irritably. "I'm not going to let you
mess with my head anymore. It's cruel."

He sighed. "I'm not messing with your head Emma. I'm
just coming through on our deal. I asked you to make me breakfast
and you did, end of story. So here, take it."

I heard something plop down on the ground next to me.
Unable to resist, I reached over and snatched it while steeling
another quick glance at Sam, thinking he might try to take it
back, but he was already stacking wood again. My hands shook as a
surge of adrenaline went through me. Was I really about to hear
from my parents? To know that they're still desperately looking
for me? That they still love me?

Slowly, I unfolded the paper, my eyes skimming each
page as I searched for something having to do with me. My mind
spun as I neared the end, my eyes not wanting to focus properly.
Did I miss it? Was he lying after all? WHERE IS IT? Frantically,
I flipped back to the beginning and started scanning the pages
again, this time trying not to skip anything. Then, just as I was
about to crumple the whole thing up and burn it, I spotted
something that made my heart drop.